Is Voting Revolutionary in This Election Cycle? Biking to Work the Polls in Austin, Texas

After riding my bicyle to three different locations over the last seven days in a row to work as a clerk for the county elections office during early voting, I have some observations.  Chief among them is that having a job again is both gratifying and exhausting, kind of fun but kind of annoying.  Another is that Austin is still a place that still has a whole lot of white people in it, especially due the high rents of downtown, which limits some people of color. But where there is diversity, it is quite varied.  Third, for the most part Austinites are a very well-behaved, clever and mellow bunch.

Fourth, voting is one of few times where people of all political stripes come together to exercise their right to participate in democracy, and that’s a beautiful thing whether you agree with voting or not.  And a fifth is that while voting is something that some people deride, some ignore, and others celebrate, it’s still a fascinating experience to be part of the process.  There are more things you might learn as I did if you just click on that little Continue Reading button.  It’s like voting!  Please vote to read the rest of this blog!  Vote for A Dude Abikes! Continue reading

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When a Job Gets in the Way of the Work of Writing

“I have one of two choices – stay in the post office and go crazy … or stay out here and play at writer and starve. I have decided to starve.

-Chatles Bukowski, from Jay Dougherty, Introduction to Charles Bukowski

The other day I wrote about my take on the perennial struggle that many writers and other creators of art face: how to pay the bills while making their stuff. Well, today, that arm wrestling came into stark relief as I reported for duty at my new, albeit temporary, job. As a result, I’m getting to this blog quite late, later than usual even. Aside from throwing a wrench into my schedule, and reducing my bicycling time, I still did my walking and yoga. But the job had some positive things about it, too. Maybe you’ll relate.

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Biking to Work and Working to Bike: A Broke Blogger’s Struggle with Art v. Commerce

Today I had the pleasure to make the virtual acquaintance of former Austinite, now Denver-area, soon to be Pittsburghian writer Lauren Modery. Her blog is Hipstercrite, and her latest post To Geoffrey Owens —Thank You on Behalf of Working Class Artists. It draws on the experience of former Cosby Show actor Geoffrey Owens, who was shamed, then praised, for having a “day job.”

Geoffrey Owens
Geoffrey Owens

What does any of that have to do with bicycles? Well, everything and nothing. Readers of this blog know that I can and have linked a bicycle to Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and actor/director Tate Donovan, to chocolate, and to racism. (I’m still not sure but I’m really, REALLY hoping that it’s not racist to use the words chocolate and racism in the same sentence.)

The fact is, that work is for most people not in the 1% (like future ex-US President Tinyhands Orangehead), an inevitable part of life. A Dude is no exception. For almost a year, his work has been this blog and a book in progress, biking his ass off (though it’s still there), daily walking and yoga-ing, volunteering, among other things. But today, he rinally had to join the working class again and get the dreaded J-O-B. He rode there on his bike, of course.

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Wowza! A 40-Mile Ride Makes My 4th 100-Mile Week in a Row

It was a very lazy Sunday.  I hadn’t done anything much save read Sue Grafton’s penultimate novel, X, and lounge around listening to classical music.  I wanted to see a movie, but it was a hot 18-mile round trip, and I could just stay home in the safety and comfort of my little rented casita.  Pages were read and turned, the phrases “page-turner” and “couldn’t put it down,” both applied.  Meals were eaten.  Time ticked by.   “What was I going to have to blog about Monday?” crossed my mind more than once.  It was 6:00 pm.  The temperature had gone down, and the light was turning softer.  I was 10 hours too late for the group rides.  But like a cat starved for food or affection or both…  Continue reading